Veneno Miguel Matos 2018
21
Top Review
Veneno - Spanish poison, to poison...
Isn't the idea seductive?
To pack everything into a fragrance that has been banned for the benefit of consumers over the last few decades and yet supposedly smells so wonderful: Nitro-musk compounds like 'Musk Ketone' and 'Musk Xylene', for example, or atranol-containing oak moss, and without limitation. Especially for fragrance aficionados who have had to witness their favorite scents being reformulated time and again to comply with the latest regulations and restrictions, until they were sometimes just a shadow of their former selves, it must feel like a dream when two perfumers come together to simply show everyone the middle finger.
However, I can only speculate why Miguel Matos did not compose the fragrance himself (he is responsible for the 'creative direction'), but left that part to his mentor Christian Carbonnel (also known as Chris Maurice). Perhaps it has to do with the nearly 100-year history of the company Carbonnel S.A. in Barcelona, whose laboratories became the gateway to the realm of professional perfume-making for the man from Almada, Portugal.
And who knows, maybe they have some sort of poison cabinet there, where everything that has faced the ban of authorities over the past decades is kept under lock and key.
Would the junior head of the proud traditional house let a talented but completely untrained self-made perfumer take the reins?
Probably not. So the maestro does it personally, and I can imagine he has some fun doing it, as the two get along well, at least that's what Miguel Matos reports, who has also recently become part of Christian Carbonnel's new company, 'C de la Niche'.
And Matos has a taste for illegality.
For many of his own fragrance creations, he uses - as a great chypre lover - for example, vast amounts of oak moss, fully aware that he is actually not allowed to sell these fragrances on the European market. Apparently, the regulations of the Geneva IFRA are interpreted a bit more loosely on the Iberian Peninsula, as the works of another oak moss rebel, Manuel Cross, owner of Rogue Perfumery, who has long been fighting against the art-destroying bureaucracy, are also readily available here.
Manuel Cross, of course, has the advantage that there are far fewer restrictions in his home country, while Miguel Matos tries to save himself with the note "This isn't a perfume. It's a piece of olfactory art. It uses safe ingredients only, but can cause reaction in allergy-prone skin. Test on a small patch of skin. Non IFRA compliant".
In the case of Veneno, this addition apparently isn't enough, and Matos embarks on a eulogy to the beauty of the used, albeit forbidden substances in his description of the fragrance, all of which contributed to the most terrible diseases, but still smelled so heavenly. Those who are tempted by this somewhat vain suade should please visit his site; I will not repeat it here.
And does the fragrance smell as forbiddenly good?
I would say, sort of.
At the beginning, I perceive a rather well-known spicy-smoky cypriol/saffron accord, clearly permeated by a narcissus indole. This animalistic-erotic twist characterizes the entire fragrance progression, is continued by a beautiful, unobtrusive civet note, and ends in a corporeal-fleshy accord of costus, musk, and ambrette. Green, woody, and slightly leathery accents of cypriol, patchouli, juniper tar, and oak moss partially veil the persistent sexual presence without completely covering it; subtle floral interjections make it a bit more charming, while fruity and sweet-balsamic nuances of osmanthus, amber, Peru balsam, and tonka bean provide warming sensuality.
Overall, the beautifully blended fragrance experience mainly strikes me through its bitter-green-spicy facets combined with the erotic components. Cypriol, cedar juniper, civet, costus, and musk are the protagonists, while the rest serves as a choral, yet not unimportant framework.
That 'Veneno' is extremely provocative, as Miguel Matos explains, I cannot confirm. There are truly more provocative scents - I only mention 'Sécrétions Magnifiques'. That it is a killer scent, "a killer scent. It will change your life... until you're dead" - well, that's just bragging!
But it does smell good.
It seems to me clearly inspired by the leathery-spicy and animalistic masterpieces of the 70s like 'Ted Lapidus pour Homme' or 'Van Cleef & Arpels pour Homme', although it does not imitate them but cleverly paraphrases. 'Veneno' is not a retro fragrance, even if one might suspect that given the long-banned and declared toxic ingredients used.
And this is where I experience a small moment of disillusionment, if not disappointment: for the promise of being able to trace back to long-lost pleasures fueled my imagination to the extent that I expected to experience something comparable to 'Patou pour Homme', which has always been said could not be resurrected due to containing numerous substances that are now banned.
"Veneno" does not smell like the good old days, and secretly I wonder: what’s the point of all this magic then?
A thoroughly modern fragrance that tips a toe into the past, but nothing more. Wouldn't it have been possible to achieve this with more acceptable means?
I think yes, but I don't know. I cannot say how "Veneno" would smell if the responsible parties had relied on the permitted palette. As it smells, it conveys nothing particularly unusual to me, and the pleasure of being able to sniff the oh-so-wonderfully smelling "endocrine disruptors" (M. Matos) does not reveal itself to me.
A good fragrance, yes. An interesting one too, but not one that would bring me to my knees in excitement.
I also cannot shake the impression that Miguel Matos would have developed the formula better himself. Sure, Christian Carbonnel is a good perfumer, but not particularly daring. His "Camel" for Zoologist is a telling example: beautifully made, good smelling, but quite tame and above all: miles away from the chutzpah of a "T-Rex". Now Matos also possesses this chutzpah - his fragrance "La Piscine" exemplifies it.
This little touch of intelligent, charming audacity is missing from "Veneno".
To pack everything into a fragrance that has been banned for the benefit of consumers over the last few decades and yet supposedly smells so wonderful: Nitro-musk compounds like 'Musk Ketone' and 'Musk Xylene', for example, or atranol-containing oak moss, and without limitation. Especially for fragrance aficionados who have had to witness their favorite scents being reformulated time and again to comply with the latest regulations and restrictions, until they were sometimes just a shadow of their former selves, it must feel like a dream when two perfumers come together to simply show everyone the middle finger.
However, I can only speculate why Miguel Matos did not compose the fragrance himself (he is responsible for the 'creative direction'), but left that part to his mentor Christian Carbonnel (also known as Chris Maurice). Perhaps it has to do with the nearly 100-year history of the company Carbonnel S.A. in Barcelona, whose laboratories became the gateway to the realm of professional perfume-making for the man from Almada, Portugal.
And who knows, maybe they have some sort of poison cabinet there, where everything that has faced the ban of authorities over the past decades is kept under lock and key.
Would the junior head of the proud traditional house let a talented but completely untrained self-made perfumer take the reins?
Probably not. So the maestro does it personally, and I can imagine he has some fun doing it, as the two get along well, at least that's what Miguel Matos reports, who has also recently become part of Christian Carbonnel's new company, 'C de la Niche'.
And Matos has a taste for illegality.
For many of his own fragrance creations, he uses - as a great chypre lover - for example, vast amounts of oak moss, fully aware that he is actually not allowed to sell these fragrances on the European market. Apparently, the regulations of the Geneva IFRA are interpreted a bit more loosely on the Iberian Peninsula, as the works of another oak moss rebel, Manuel Cross, owner of Rogue Perfumery, who has long been fighting against the art-destroying bureaucracy, are also readily available here.
Manuel Cross, of course, has the advantage that there are far fewer restrictions in his home country, while Miguel Matos tries to save himself with the note "This isn't a perfume. It's a piece of olfactory art. It uses safe ingredients only, but can cause reaction in allergy-prone skin. Test on a small patch of skin. Non IFRA compliant".
In the case of Veneno, this addition apparently isn't enough, and Matos embarks on a eulogy to the beauty of the used, albeit forbidden substances in his description of the fragrance, all of which contributed to the most terrible diseases, but still smelled so heavenly. Those who are tempted by this somewhat vain suade should please visit his site; I will not repeat it here.
And does the fragrance smell as forbiddenly good?
I would say, sort of.
At the beginning, I perceive a rather well-known spicy-smoky cypriol/saffron accord, clearly permeated by a narcissus indole. This animalistic-erotic twist characterizes the entire fragrance progression, is continued by a beautiful, unobtrusive civet note, and ends in a corporeal-fleshy accord of costus, musk, and ambrette. Green, woody, and slightly leathery accents of cypriol, patchouli, juniper tar, and oak moss partially veil the persistent sexual presence without completely covering it; subtle floral interjections make it a bit more charming, while fruity and sweet-balsamic nuances of osmanthus, amber, Peru balsam, and tonka bean provide warming sensuality.
Overall, the beautifully blended fragrance experience mainly strikes me through its bitter-green-spicy facets combined with the erotic components. Cypriol, cedar juniper, civet, costus, and musk are the protagonists, while the rest serves as a choral, yet not unimportant framework.
That 'Veneno' is extremely provocative, as Miguel Matos explains, I cannot confirm. There are truly more provocative scents - I only mention 'Sécrétions Magnifiques'. That it is a killer scent, "a killer scent. It will change your life... until you're dead" - well, that's just bragging!
But it does smell good.
It seems to me clearly inspired by the leathery-spicy and animalistic masterpieces of the 70s like 'Ted Lapidus pour Homme' or 'Van Cleef & Arpels pour Homme', although it does not imitate them but cleverly paraphrases. 'Veneno' is not a retro fragrance, even if one might suspect that given the long-banned and declared toxic ingredients used.
And this is where I experience a small moment of disillusionment, if not disappointment: for the promise of being able to trace back to long-lost pleasures fueled my imagination to the extent that I expected to experience something comparable to 'Patou pour Homme', which has always been said could not be resurrected due to containing numerous substances that are now banned.
"Veneno" does not smell like the good old days, and secretly I wonder: what’s the point of all this magic then?
A thoroughly modern fragrance that tips a toe into the past, but nothing more. Wouldn't it have been possible to achieve this with more acceptable means?
I think yes, but I don't know. I cannot say how "Veneno" would smell if the responsible parties had relied on the permitted palette. As it smells, it conveys nothing particularly unusual to me, and the pleasure of being able to sniff the oh-so-wonderfully smelling "endocrine disruptors" (M. Matos) does not reveal itself to me.
A good fragrance, yes. An interesting one too, but not one that would bring me to my knees in excitement.
I also cannot shake the impression that Miguel Matos would have developed the formula better himself. Sure, Christian Carbonnel is a good perfumer, but not particularly daring. His "Camel" for Zoologist is a telling example: beautifully made, good smelling, but quite tame and above all: miles away from the chutzpah of a "T-Rex". Now Matos also possesses this chutzpah - his fragrance "La Piscine" exemplifies it.
This little touch of intelligent, charming audacity is missing from "Veneno".
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8 Comments
Gripping review, excellently commented and contextualized.